A Change in the Winds
by BartonOfEarth01
Summary: James Norrington is a conflicted man on a search for a place he fits in. Will Jack be the one to give him what he needs and come across a revelation on the way? James Norrington x Jack Sparrow Don't know what I'm doing- I had an urge to write Sparrington. Sorry.


James Norrington was a conflicted man. Born to a Carpenter and a Kitchen maid to the most influential family in England he had always had the upmost loyalty to the crown. He was almost disappointed that all it took was a cheeky side glance and a flash of gold teeth to bring his unwavering loyalty to a painful and tumultuous end. He smiled wryly and shook his head as he folded the embroidered great coat for the last time and locked the lid to the old oak chest. Elizabeth was impatiently awaiting his appearance in the parlour downstairs, sparking with excitement at the proposition of seeing her husband once again as she had brashly decided to accompany him to Tortuga, at least, to find a crew of her own. James was almost glad that Elizabeth chose the pirate over himself. Almost. His life would have been considerably less complicated if she had not.

He heaved the chest over his shoulder and bolstered himself against the wall as he made his way downstairs. _Its better this way_ , he thought to himself sadly. It was true. The sea called to him, it always had, only now there was another that called to him, and their similar distance from him was a deadly blow to his resolve. The final nail in his coffin so to speak, and as his recent actions would likely see him at the end of a noose tied by his own hands it was now prudent that he up and moved before his predictions became unhappy realities. When it came to Sparrow he was lost at sea, he had no bearing to guide him; only instinct and a thin veneer of propriety and pride to shield himself from the pirates' fatal charms.

The spray temporarily blinded him as they made their way to the _Halyard_ , salt already crusting in his hair, _god_ he missed this, the sea and the salt and the spray and… _freedom_. James always thought he would look back on his brief year as a pirate and see it as the worst year of his life, not the _best_. He was pulled from his woolgathering by a hand being thrust curtly in his face and waved impatiently. The Commodore glanced sky-ward to see Lieutenant Groves with his hand stuck out and a single bushy eyebrow raised, almost into his hairline.

"Teddy, wonderful to see you." James intoned cheerily as he grasped the aforementioned hand and used it to hoist himself aboard.

"Good to see you too Sir, there's been less of your around since you holed yourself up in your office; I've scarce seen you for months."

The Commodore gave a tight smile,

"Please call me James. It's a shame I've denied you of my presence then, your company is of great value to me. Now, shall we make sail?"

"Of course, Sir- James, right we go."

Groves then proceeded to trot off, barking orders this way and that to get them underway evidently having come into his own since the varied incidents of the last six years. He'd hate to blacken the young man's papers but Groves assured him the crew wouldn't utter a word for fear of the noose themselves.

Tortuga was disgusting, as usual, and unnervingly a great comfort to the, now, skittish Commodore. Lights from the shore reflected off the unusually calm sea, like a sky in a Neer Aert van der painting, rippling softly as they broke towards the dock. James looked over to see Elizabeth almost lean over the railing in anticipation for making landfall, just as she did when she was a child. He smiled to himself and shook his head, to think she could ever love him. Such a fool he had been. Too fond of the sea, and pirates and adventure for her to ever love a Navy man such as him. She was better to be shot of him. If she saw him watching her she didn't mention it as they descended the gangplank into the familiar fray of Tortuga.

They took refuge from the chaos in a pub called _The Blind Beggar_ , one often frequented by Jack himself. James went to find a table in a secluded back corner whilst Elizabeth fought her way to the bar to buy them some ale and ask a few subtle questions about the gaudy pirates' whereabouts. The commodore found himself grinning, pulling his hair from his thong to hide his wide smile lest his teeth be kicked in for looking too smug. A pirates' life for him. Just then Elizabeth made it back to the table, banging the tankards down on the suspiciously grimy table, still at least half full, which was a feat in of itself with how much jostling was going on around them.

"Did she tell you anything?" James inquired, leaning forward to be heard over the ruckus,

"Only that 'he's been hangin' around 'ere lately'," Elizabeth replied, imitating the rather plump, red barkeepers cockney accent. James felt his smile wilt a little and Elizabeth took his hand in her own,

"We'll find him James, we just have to cause enough trouble and he'll pop up out of the blue like he always does; that man is like a basset hound on the hunt for mischief, I swear by it."

The commodore nodded and threw the remains of his drink down his gullet.

It was late when they got to their Inn, _The Holly Head_ , and Elizabeth could barely walk, drunkenly singing something or other about rum and eggs and abandoned shipping routes. Not fairing much better himself he dragged her uncoordinatedly to her room and let her down on her bed, calling it quits at that and locked the door behind him as he left, stumbling back to his own room across the hall. He just managed to secure the room to a sufficient standard to last him the night before passing out cold on the floor.

James groaned as he came too, the bright Caribbean sun near blinding him in his delicate state as it poured through an open window. A window that James was sure that he had shut the night before. Suddenly the sun was gone, and a pair of weathered old boots made themselves clear to his compromised sight. He followed the legs to see a very familiar, mildly irritating, cocky smile, full of gold teeth, and a pair of sharp brown eyes filled with good natured mirth at the spectacle he made.

"Well 'ello there Jamie luv, fancy seein' you here."


End file.
